Missione Sette: Dude Looks Like a Lady
by The Derpssassins
Summary: The derpsassins are given a very important undercover mission. Can they make it to the end of the mission without ruining everything? Not likely.


The two women were out of breath. They had been running for a good while now and hadn't stopped for anything. One of them was missing a shoe, which was evident by the way she held her foot. With a huff, she sneered at her friend in a deep voice.

"Damn it Fausto! I thought you were lucky!" The 'woman' shook her head to clear a strand of hair from her eyes. The redhead shook her head with a rather exasperated sigh.

"How many times do I have to tell you that just because my name may reference to it-!"

Before Fausto could get in another word, they were interrupted by shouting guards. He uttered a swear and perked his head up as he heard the ruffling of clothes. It seemed that the first 'woman' was trying to relieve herself of her dress.

"Ottavio! No!" The redhead quickly yanked the blonde's hands off 'her' skirt, "We have no time!"

"I am sick and tired of running in this damn thing!", 'she' cried out before taking off with redhead away from the sound of guards. They didn't have anywhere else to go, frankly. Both of the 'women' knew this even as they ran blindly into their very dead end. Ottavio finally lost his other shoe and gave a sigh of relief.

"Well at least now, I will die a comfortable man!"

"We are _not_ going to die!" Fausto shouted. Of course, he wasn't too sure himself of what outcome lay before them, but he had to keep spirits up somehow. There was no point in giving up just then. Fausto knew that this wasn't the end. It couldn't have been, could it? Well, from the looks of things, it sure felt like it. He and Ottavio were going to die dressed as women. Certainly, this was not the best way to go.

The end of the hallway; they had nowhere left to turn. The two men in drag looked at each other with an expression of despair. If they were going to die, they should die like men.

Men in fabulous dresses.

The two assassins went to draw their weapons. It was actually quite amazing at how many places a woman could hide deadly objects. Fausto had found a new appreciation for the women of the Creed. Gripping the hilts of their trusted blades, they prepared themselves for battle.

That's when the wall next to them swung open.

* * *

><p>Ezio could hardly believe that these men were still alive. It had to be pure dumb luck or some extravagant cosmic joke. Whatever it truly was, the Master was stuck with it until someone finally realized that the joke had been long over. As the three novices (somewhat) calmed down, Auditore smiled politely to himself. Well, as politely as he could manage. The three young men were in for a treat. In whose eyes? Possibly the rest of the creed. A pleasant hum escaped his lips as he began the briefing.<p>

"Men, please." A hand was held up, and expecting eyes scanned over the then silent novices, "There will be time for talking later. Right now, I would like to lay this mission upon the table as a sort of… cloth, for which your thoughts and our dinner may rest upon. You never know when you might have to clear it in the hopes of not being noticed."

Three sets of eyes glanced to one another. What the Master had in mind for them seemed rather serious. The fact that they were all sitting at the table together, meant that they had built some reasonable amount of respect. Affonso almost became misty eyed at the thought; his mother would be so proud.

"What lies before you could take your life," Ezio said this rather smoothly as the wine was delivered to the table, "It is a _missone sotto copertura_."

Brows rose at this. An undercover mission? Fausto's heart fluttered at the thought. The cogs in his head began to turn and formulate possible targets they might be going after. Ottavio was rather skittish of the idea and rightly so. The undercover mission possibly meant that he would have to go without his mask. Knots built in his stomach.

"There is a party being held tomorrow night. It is important for you to work your way in amongst the guests and _blend in_. You are assassins. You should know how to do this very well, by now_."_

He really didn't believe in their abilities. In fact, he was sure the night would go over as a disaster. These three had already caused enough trouble and he was hoping that there was some possible way to use that particular side effect of their work.

"I cannot say much more. The walls…they have ears." Ezio waved his hand about, more or less waving away the subject, "The least I can tell you is that Leonardo will be expecting you." The novices shared a glance of uncertainty. Leonardo? What could he possibly be helping them with?

"I promised him that he would be able to see a certain _mutt_ again…" Auditore looked down to the sleeping black ball with a hint of disdain, "I do not know why he adores it so."

* * *

><p>They had been waiting for the past fifteen minutes. In those last fifteen minutes, Leonardo seemed to have ignored the fact that they were even present in the room. What filled his attention was the young black dog that seemed to have an endless supply of adorable.<p>

This is the life of Assassins.

"Ah, Leonardo…Isn't there a _missione sotto copertura_ that uh…we should be attending to?" Fausto's words failed to hit their mark. The artist in question was too wrapped up in puppy bliss. Affonso, who had become filled with impatience, cleared his throat and raised his voice.

"_Senor Leonardo…_"

For a moment, Fausto and Ottavio look rather confused. That wasn't Affonso's voice. The two looked to their compatriot and realized that he looked just as confused and intensely more terrified. What was he even looking at? Slowly, they turned their heads. What greeted their eyes made their hormones very confused: She was a beautiful woman, but seemed to have the aura of a demon.

"_MAMA!_"

"Mama?" The other two assassins echoed. Before they could get an answer, the woman was upon Affonso, spewing out a series of words they could never hope to grasp. Affonso, best assassin, was reduced to a shivering pile of tears. The two remaining men looked to each other then carefully began to step back and away from the screaming banshee.

As if on cue, the woman turned her head.

"_You_." She brought up an elegant finger, and pointed it in Fausto and Ottavio's direction.

"Me?" They both exclaimed in horror.

"No you!" The assassin's pointed to one another.

"Why me?"

Frustrated, the woman grabbed them both and brought them over to where Affonso now lay. Shivering, weeping and possibly broken, the rose scented man looked up at his two friends. They were in for hell.

"Why do you not _run_?" Affonso whispered, absolutely terrified.

"If you haven't noticed, _mi amico_, we _CANNOT_." Fausto spat through gritted teeth. Ottavio, the wiser one, decided it was best to remain silent. This proved to play out in his favor as the demoness brought more foreign verbal abuse onto the other two. Intervening, Leonardo stepped forth and brought a hand upon the woman's shoulder.

"Ah…there is no need to be so ah…whatever you are." Affonso's mother shot the artist a weary look, "Why don't you introduce yourself to the boys, mm?"

Again, it was as if a switch was flipped. The woman tore away from Leonardo's hold, and immediately the two novices understood where Affonso got his quirks from. She brought up her arm, and placed her other hand upon her hip as if she were about to cry to the gods.

"I!" she began, with a voice that could shatter the heavens, "am _Camelita Ernesta Lucia Sofia Marisol_." It almost sounded like she was growling out the words. Her gaze lowered upon them, the once glare traded in for a smolder.

"But _you_ may call me Adona." Fausto and Ottavio were not sure if they were supposed to be aroused or frightened for their lives.

"A-Ah…It is a pleasure." Fausto said, hoping he didn't sound too perverted.

"Well _of course_ it is." Adona purred. Before the air could get too much more awkward, Affonso found the strength to sit himself up. Pleading eyes stared in his mother's direction.

"M-mama, there is no need to talk to these idiots, no? Why…why are you here-"

"BECAUSE!" And Affonso was sent to the floor again, "You do not question me, Affonso! I am your MOTHER." Adona cried as she brought herself upon Affonso. She tugged him up by the ear and sneered in his face, "_I leave you alone for_ THREE YEARS…And look what happens. _Insolent little_…"

"There is no need for fighting!" Leonardo almost threw himself at Adona. The woman, of course, looked rather pissed off that her onslaught of perpetual bitching was interrupted. With a sigh and a simple shrug, the woman dropped her son and continued to the other side of the workshop. The artist, eyes filled with apologies and compassion, helped up the son of the demoness.

"She is ah…a feisty one, is she not?" Affonso was not amused with such a proclamation. Not so much because of Leonardo's slandering toward his mother, but the simple fact that what the man had stated was the oldest news to ever exist.

"What is she doing here, Leonardo?" Ottavio seemed the one to pipe up at this point. With a bit of a sigh, Leonardo let go of Affonso and began his confession.

"I needed her help," the man adjusted his hat as the three assassins looked between themselves, "She is the best in this area, and I of course, being only an artist have very little experience with assassins and the like. I do not even know why Ezio requested me to aid in this-"

"You know _very well_ as to why, mi paloma." Adona had returned and was holding something just out of view of the novices. Fausto tipped slightly trying to get a better view, but Affonso blocked him from leaning far enough to see. The gesture did not go unnoticed by the Spanish woman who immediately snapped her gaze to the blue eyed novice. The demoness dropped the object and quick as a snake her hand had his chin in a vice-like grip, "This will never do. Do you _ever_ wash your face!" She snapped before turning to Ottavio and grabbed for his mask. Ottavio scrambled back just out of reach, "Please leave my mask alone." He pleaded while staying just out of reach of her quick fingers.

"You may keep it for the moment. However, it will be off your face before this hour is done." Adona turned and stopped dead in her tracks. A large bundle of expensive cloth lay in a pile on the floor with a black fuzzy puppy in the middle of it. They couldn't see her face, but her shoulders went completely ridged and her hands fisted into a white knuckled grip. "Ezio! Run!" Affonso shouted at the fuzzball who only looked up from his current resting place and soon to be death bed. A book found its way into her hands and she sent it flying straight at the puppy. "You little _wretch!_ How _dare_ you get your nasty fur on my expensive-" Ezio yelped and fled as she continued to throw whatever she could get her hands on while screaming in Spanish.

Leonardo scooped Ezio up and fled to the bedroom with a cry of, "Don't worry boys! He's in safe hands, and so are you!" Somehow, they disagreed.

She turned to them slowly and after sizing them up one by one, a small smirk spread across her face. "_Now, _Let's get started." Her captive audience shivered in horror as she picked up the fabric and shook it out. It wasn't just fabric, it was a finely made _dress_. "Mama, please no." Affonso looked at the dress with a look of horror on his face. He shook his head slowly, "not again." Fausto and Ottavio were both afraid for what was about to happen.

"Strip, now." Those were not the words they had expected to come out of the Spanish woman's mouth. All Ottavio could manage was a stupid sounding, "What?" She rounded on him and grabbed the front of his tunic. "Lose all of your clothes. I need to take your measurements. Down to your underwear or bare ass. I don't care, just strip." Completely speechless and slightly aroused, Fausto stood and slowly began to remove his robes and armor. Affonso and Ottavio followed suit. "I feel only slightly ridiculous." Ottavio muttered standing in nothing more than his mask. Affonso's eyes were directly on his neck looking at the discolored skin that showed.

Adona grabbed the mask off of his face and this time he didn't fight. The black cloth fell away and revealed scars going from just below his nose down his neck. He was scowling as they scrutinized his face. "I'm sure we have something more important to attend to." Adona ignored his remark and stepped forward her look critical. "This makes things a little more difficult. I was not expecting such a challenge." All attention was on the woman. "I will have to think on this problem, for now you all need to get dressed or you'll be late." A look of confusion crossed their faces as she threw cloth into the novice's hands.

"Dresses. I will _not_ wear a dress." Fausto cried and dropped the gown to the floor. Affonso stopped him with a look, "Believe me Fausto, no amount of luck is going to keep you out of that dress." Affonso pulled his dress on over his head and looked pointedly at Fausto, "It's not _that_ bad once you get used to it." Fausto was completely stupefied. He turned to Ottavio in hope of some form of manly refusal, only to find the blonde fighting to get his head through the hole in the top. He turned again to Adona who was now standing directly in front of him, "I suggest you get dressed." He shook his head once more and she scowled. Her hand shot out and grabbed his little Fausto in a firm unrelenting grip. Fausto squeaked and went completely still. "If you want to keep your little friend here, I'd suggest you _get dressed._" The gown went over Fausto's head as he recovered from nearly losing his marbles.

Once they were all dressed she began to stuff the fronts of their dresses with oranges. She stepped back to admire her handy work. One of Affonso's oranges was lower than the other, a quick adjustment and he was perfect. Ezio had already informed her of their basic appearances and she pulled 3 wigs out of her box in the back of the work shop. She fitted Ottavio's easily as he had curls to put the clips in. She covered Affonso's atrocious hair with the wig and shot him a disapproving stare. Now Fausto, she had a problem. His hair was much too short for clips. The long wig would surely fall back. She put the wig on his head and began to braid and style it on top of his head. She frowned as he turned to look at her, "It doesn't feel very… stable."

"Don't bend down or move your head very fast. Now the final touches." She was gone and back again in moments putting make up on faces until she got to Ottavio. "I don't have nearly enough to cover your entire face and neck, but I have an idea." She put the stuff on his neck covering the scars and handed him a wooden item." Ottavio looked down and saw a silk fan with wooden guard sticks. "Are you sure this is going to work?" She ignored the question as she finished their makeup and shooed them out the door. "Here is your invitation do not lose it. Your carriage is waiting just outside. Good luck."

Once out the door they looked at each other and silently climbed into the carriage. The carriage set off to an unknown destination and finally Ottavio spoke up, "So, what exactly are we supposed to do?" The other two assassins paled because they had no idea.

* * *

><p>"Perhaps we are to… erm… remove a politician from the picture?" Fausto asked quietly as he and his comrades waited in the short line for the guards to check their invitation. Ottavio shifted uncomfortably while holding the fan stiffly in front of his face.<p>

"That is probably the case. Don't worry, for I am best assassin. We will be in and out in a matter of moments." Affonso started to puff up his chest but the constricting dress prevented him from doing so. The line shifted and Ottavio muttered a few words under his breath. "What was that, Ottavio?" Affonso scowled at the fan blocking most of Ottavio's face. "We will probably be chased out with swords and arrows in a matter of moments. Get ready, we're next." They stepped up and the guard cleared his throat. "Invitation?"

Fausto presented the invitation easily with a smile. He checked the invitation quickly and nodded. "Your names?" The boys went ridged. Why did he need their names? "Our names sir?" Fausto squeaked out as sweat started to form on his brow. Surely they wouldn't be turned away at the door. "Yes, so we can announce you." A silent sigh of relief loosened the novices shoulders. "Well I am-"

"I am Affonsa, sir. These are my friends." Affonso waved his hand back to Ottavio and Fausto who were dumbfounded by his surprisingly good woman's voice. "I'm… Ottavia." Ottavio received odd looks from the other novices as it was Fausto's turn, "My name is Faustina, sir." With their absolutely clever names in place they strode through the doors of the party.

"We were supposed to find our target easily?" Ottavio asked numbly as he scanned the crowd of hundreds of guests. Affonso shooed him from the entryway and whispered in his ear, "Don't stand and gawk in such an obvious place, you'll look like a commoner." They tucked themselves in a corner to do some quick briefing. "Okay, so this is going to be a lot harder than we initially thought." Fausto began quietly and glanced around before continuing, "I'm thinking we should do some scouting around." Before he could finish a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Fausto nearly jumped out of his skin as he swung around and reached his hand up to grab the wig and keep it from falling from his head.

"Good evening, milady. Might I have your name?" A young man bowed and took the hand that wasn't clinging to his hair. Fausto cleared his throat lightly and looked to his companions for assistance, only to find that they had disappeared. "I am Faustina, and you are?" He smiled politely and kissed Faustina's hand, "My name is Eligio. Would you give me the pleasure of a dance this evening?" With no one to save him, Fausto had to agree and was pulled out onto the dance floor.

On the other side of the ballroom, Ottavio was moving quietly through the crowd in search of information. That noble had zeroed in on Fausto as soon as they had stopped to talk in the corner. The blonde assassin knew there was no saving his friend so he made his way into the crowd in search of their target. He stopped and listened to snippets of conversation before moving on. There were a lot of conversations about families, potential marriages, gossip, and other unimportant topics. No one was talking about politics or shady deals. "My word that young woman is simply lovely." Ottavio glanced in the direction that came from and saw a few women looking far to his right. What in the world?

Affonsa was smiling politely and batting her lashes at the group of young men that had gathered around. "That is a beautiful scent you're wearing, roses I believe?" she giggled and nodded. "Yes, they are a simply lovely flower." The men all agreed and began to comment on how she was more lovely than the most perfect rose. "I must say I was invited to this lovely party by a family friend, so I simply must know, who is our host?" One of the more handsome of her entourage pointed out a dark haired man on the dance floor with a red haired woman. Affonsa frowned how had Fausto figured that out so quickly? Was the host their target or was there a special guest he had yet to hear about? A gloved hand touched her shoulder and she turned to see Ottavio looking at her seriously over his fan. He leaned in close to murmur into Affonso's ear. "I can't seem to find any information. What have you learned and have you seen Fausto?"

"Faustina is over there with our generous host." Affonso nodded at the two waltzing nearby, "And other than the identity of our host, not much. Also, so you are aware, there has been a young man following you all night. I've watched him while he watched you. I can't tell what his intentions are." Ottavio scowled and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind." With that he left the dark haired assassin and slipped back into the crowd. He made his way to an empty balcony through a small archway. Ottavio slipped to the right in the darkness and waited for his stalker to appear. A tap on his shoulder made him spin. An assassin hood met his gaze and calmed him down before he grabbed the hidden knife under his sash. "I have been following you all evening. Please tell me you have the item?" Ottavio frowned and crossed his arms in an entirely unfeminine way.

"What are you even talking about?" The other assassin went ridged, "My apologies. I must have the wrong person." The assassin started to slip back into the party but Ottavio grabbed his robes and yanked him back. "No brother, I'm the right person, however, Master Leonardo was never able to brief me. The demoness scared him off with my _dog._" At the mention of Master Leonardo the assassin relaxed, but at the mention of dog he snorted and grabbed his mouth to smother a laugh. "Dear god, _Milady_, I thought you were familiar… but I didn't realize." He doubled over in an attempt to keep himself from laughing. "Ottavio?" He gasped and began to laugh quietly. "What's going on out here?" Both assassin's went completely ridged. The other assassin whispered, "Milady." And swept Ottavio against the wall and pressed their noses together. Ottavio turned his gaze to the guard who strode out onto the balcony and looked over to them before clearing his throat and turning awkwardly back to the party.

"What is our target?" Ottavio asked as his brother put some space between them. "You really were told nothing. Our target is Eligio Panetta. He is a templar and is funneling money and supplies to their army. Ottavio nodded with a frown. "What was our part in this plan, Nestore?" Nestore grinned, "You three are to cause a distraction so I can make the kill. I'm counting on you." He strode away leaving Ottavio dumbfounded.

Affonsa had been watching the assumed target for a good twenty minutes. He had been dancing with what looked like a very unwilling Fausto. Lucky man. "I am best assassin, perhaps I should cut in or something." Affonsa muttered in annoyance while flipping his hair. "Did you say something, Affonsa?" One of the men in his group couldn't seem to stop asking him questions or noticing when he spoke to himself. "Perhaps you could get me a drink? I'm simply parched." A fluttering of lashes and a smile later four men had run off to fetch a drink and some food. Leaving him alone with one last suitor. The man was obviously different from the others as he was obviously an assassin. Affonso's jaw dropped as he immediately understood their role in this entire mission. They were not to kill anyone at all. They had been sent as a distraction. Tools to be used and thrown away. Absolutely useless in the eyes of the brotherhood. His impeccable façade fell away leaving a broken man in drag. He had a sudden need to be best assassin. More than ever before he wanted to prove he was number one.

"Nestore is here and we- Affonsa are you alright?" Ottavio looked around the crowd carefully before peering into the eyes of a man who had been issued a challenge. "Affonsa." Affonso looked straight into Ottavio's eyes very seriously before placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders and saying, "What have you learned Ottavia?" Ottavio cleared his throat and suddenly wished very much that he had found Fausto before Affonso. "We are to cause a distraction. I was wondering if you had any ideas? Our target is our generous host who hasn't left our partner's side all night." Affonso frowned and began to walk through the crowd to get a better look at their friend.

"I must say your hair color is very rare in these parts. Are you from the south?" Eligio asked lightly as he held a panicked Fausto close and spiraled around the dance floor. "Ah, yes. I am from the southern coast actually." Fausto hoped to god the noble would release him soon, but he hadn't let the assassin escape despite the song ending and a few more beginning. He also hoped he didn't look too flirty in fear of what may attempt to happen. "The southern coast is simply beautiful. I often make trips to the Mediterranean, perhaps I could stop in, which city did you say you were from?" Fausto suddenly drew a blank, had he told him what city he was from? He wasn't sure. "Naples, Messere Eligio." The noble chuckled and shook his head, "Just Eligio, please. Naples is hardly the southern coast, but I suppose it is south of here." Fausto's eye twitched but he forced a smile. The bastardo was looking down upon his intelligence.

Another song ended and he tried to disentangle himself from the man. Once again he was unsuccessful. As another one started up they began to move to the music once again. As they swung he caught sight of Ottavio and Affonso looking across the dance floor. He couldn't see why, but they looked serious. It took two turns around the floor to finally spot an assassin watching their dance very closely. Realization struck him hard in the chest. That assassin is here for the killing, I'm only a distraction and I'm dancing with the target. Which means I'm doing my job well, but I am not supposed to kill the man. Mio dio, am I being demoted? I must be. A wave of uncertainty swamped him and he was unexpectedly dipped back. As he was pulled back up his head felt very cold as a very sharp and angry gaze stared where a wig should have been.

The party was suddenly complete chaos. Affonso appeared behind the noble and a dagger was shoved deep into Eligio's kidney. Eligio grunted in surprise and slumped forward onto Fausto. Nestore was a mere few feet away looking at Affonso in absolute shock. "Fausto, we have to move quickly!" Affonso grabbed hold of Fausto and began to drag him through the crowd where he grabbed Ottavio with the other hand. "Affonso, I can't believe you did that! After I told you that we were only supposed to cause a distraction." Ottavio growled as he struggled to run in the stupid shoes that the demoness had put him in. They hiked up their skirts and fled through a doorway in search of a way out.

"Affonso wait!" Fausto yelled as the dark haired assassin bolted away down a different hallway. Guards were behind them and gaining. A clatter behind them marked the loss of Ottavio's shoe. "If we can get the damn things off we might be able to sneak away." Ottavio growled as he obviously fought to get rid of the other one. "There is no time, besides they can see us so even if we could get them off they know exactly where we are!" Fausto yelled to his partner as he willed his legs to move faster. They rounded a corner and began to grab at door handles in hopes of escaping for even a moment. No such luck.

They were forced to keep running around the entire floor until finally they stood at a dead end. They turned and unsheathed daggers hidden on their thighs and prepared to fight for their lives. The guards charged and the wall next to them swung open revealing an overly proud Affonso. "I am _best_ assassin!" Affonso whipped a dagger through the air and it sunk into a guard's exposed neck. "Hah! That will teach you! Never leave your neck exposed like that!" Ottavio looked at the obnoxious assassin disgustedly, "Now is not the time to give them tips on how to _survive_! I'd say _we_ are a little more exposed than that guy's neck." Affonso waved it off and tossed hidden blades to his partners before throwing himself forward into the fray sinking his blade into an eye. "One should always be prepared!" He yelled triumphantly. They didn't ask they just strapped the blades to their arms.

Now with a fighting chance, they fought long and hard. Fausto viciously stabbed a man in his unarmored armpit and swung his hidden blade up through the guards jaw. A sickening crunch and a cry revealed Ottavio stabbing a guard through the scalp before turning and rolling away from a mace slamming into the floor where he had been. They broke away from the chaos and were once again running through corridors. "Do either of you know of where we can find an _exit?_" Fausto yelled over the clanking of armor behind them. Affonso puffed up his chest, "Yes, there is a window in the room with the revolving wall I came through to save you!" Ottavio tripped and caught himself, "That's in the _opposite direction!_" The assassins skidded to a halt and turned back to the growing number of guards behind them. With blades drawn, they threw themselves into the fray once again.

* * *

><p>"It's truly a miracle they even survived." The brotherhood's doctor was staring at the bloody mess that was Affonso, Ottavio, and Fausto. "Everything was working against them, Maestro were you aware they weren't briefed before sending them in there?" Ezio shot the doctor a tired look and shook his head, "No, Leonardo didn't tell me that he had saved himself and the dog without telling them not to do anything <em>stupid<em>." He glared at the novices for a long moment before continuing. "Once Nestore gave you the information you should have known better than to do something so reckless. We have few brothers and sisters as it is." He sighed darkly, "What have you to say for yourselves?" The novices looked at each other before Affonso took it upon himself to answer Maestro's question. "Maestro, I am _best_ assassin." Ezio waited for him to continue and when he didn't Ezio merely asked, "Anything else?" Affonso shook his head. Fausto made a face at Affonso and started to speak, "I apologize Maestro, and we shouldn't have done something so reckless. I hadn't expected my wig to fall off. We could have avoided the entire thing if it hadn't happened." Ezio nodded at his explanation and looked at Ottavio, but Fausto continued, "Please Maestro, do not demote me for such a stupid mistake." Ezio fought the urge to smack him, "I will think on it." He waved to Ottavio to say something, but the scarred mouth seemed to be sealed shut. A few minutes passed and Ezio's patience was wearing thin. Ottavio sighed and began slowly. "I think I need a new mask. I apologize, I think the demoness lost it when she was attacking my face with her brushes."

"Hey! Don't talk about my mother that way!" Affonso shouted to his comrade. "Oi, She's a demon and you know it!" Ottavio shouted back. "Don't make me come over there, Pastrami!" Ottavio looked completely insulted, "I'd like to see you try you rose scented bastardo! At least my legs work!" Affonso sat up from his cot and started to fight to get out of the bed, the doctor was firmly pushing him back onto the bed. "It's not my fault I caught a sword to the thigh and an arrow to the knee! How about you come over here so I can beat the shit out of you! At least I can grow a beard!" Fausto could only sit in his bed with his head in his hands as the verbal assault continued. "_Enough!_" Ezio's voice echoed through the small sick room. The novices flinched and looked up at him with uncertain eyes. "That is no way to act in a hospital. Get some rest, I have no use for injured assassins." He made his way to the door with a sigh, "I expect you all to be up and moving in a few days." The novices nodded and kept their mouths shut until the door closed behind their master.

"Pastrami." "Bastardo." "Beard." "At least I can walk." "_Guys, shut up._"


End file.
